


we're not that weak (but we're not that strong either)

by rainny_days



Category: Ouroboros (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Introspection, M/M, and canon is sad, and hibino gets the competent gf she deserves, and tatsuya and ikuo are gross boyfriends, but this is not that fic, ikuo is sunshine incarnate, kind of, mixed manga and drama plot points, one day ill write an au, sadfic im sorry, spoilers until the end of the drama, tatsuya is a gay disaster, this fandom has way too few fics it's a crime, this is the canon fic, where everyone is happy and alive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 12:23:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14832194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainny_days/pseuds/rainny_days
Summary: Danno Tatsuya on life, love, and the walking mess that is Ryuzaki Ikuo





	we're not that weak (but we're not that strong either)

**Author's Note:**

> this drama single handedly destroyed my life and this is how i deal.
> 
> lyrics from nino's solo 'Doko ni Demo Aru Uta' ('A song you can find anywhere')

01.

“Here you go, Tacchan!”

Tatsuya looks at the box in Ikuo’s hands warily, “what is this?”

Ikuo has an unfortunate tendency for roping Tatsuya into trying things that had Bad Idea written all over them. It wasn’t out of maliciousness, he was pretty sure, so much as Ikuo’s natural curiosity (or idiocy, as Tatsuya would frequently assert) combining with a puppy-dog enthusiasm for the world around him, and culminating into a naive optimism towards adventure.

It wasn’t endearing. It _wasn’t_.

Ikuo was still looking at him, though, eyes round with anticipation and wearing a ridiculously wide smile.

Sometimes, it was all too easy to see how the other boy managed to convince Tatsuya into uncharacteristic compliance.

“They’re chocolates!” Ikuo says, when the silence stretches on, “For you!”

“I can see _that_ , idiot. I mean, why the fuck are you giving them to me?”

“Ahhh! Tacchan, you said a _bad word_!”

“Do I look like I give a shit?”

“Yuiko-sensei’s gonna be _mad_.”

Tatsuya glares harder at the younger boy, hoping that he’ll somehow start to _make sense_ if he does it long enough. It’s never happened before, but Tatsuya’s a persistent kind of guy.

“Look, are you going to tell me why you’re giving me chocolate, or do I have to beat it out of you?” he asks, because talking to Ikuo gives him nothing but headaches.

Ikuo pouts, like it’s _Tatsuya’s_ fault for not getting it. He doesn’t even look afraid at the threat, damn him, probably because he knows that Tatsuya’s not going to go through with it. He never does.

“For white day,” the smaller boy chirps, brows furrowing, “you didn’t forget, did you?”

Tatsuya splutters: “Wha- I- I didn’t _forget_ , you moron! Why would you get me _white day chocolates_?”

“Because you gave me chocolates on Valentine’s,” Ikuo reminds him, the ‘duh’ clear in his tone.

_“Tacchan, can I…?”_

_“Sure, whatever, take what you want.”_

Tatsuya fights the the heat creeping up his neck, barely curbing the urge to strangle Ikuo on sheer force of will- that, and the thought of Yuiko’s retribution when she finds the body.

“Ikuo,” he says slowly, “that wasn’t my chocolate. It was some girl’s chocolate. I gave some to _everyone_.”

Ikuo tilts his head, “So?”

“ _So_ , you idiot, I’m not a girl! You can’t give me chocolate!”

“But you gave me some!”

“That’s _different._ ”

“ _Yuiko-sensei_ said that it was alright.” the younger boy says patiently, as if Yuiko’s words were gospel and were all the justification he needed.

Ikuo steps forward then and shoved the chocolates into Tatsuya’s hands, “I _want_ you to have it. Yuiko-sensei says that you should give chocolates back if you like the person who gave them to you, and I like you. So you have to keep it.”

Tatsuya’s busy fighting the wave of hot embarrassment then, too preoccupied with his inner conflict to see Ikuo run away like he’d gotten away with something. By the time he comes out of his stupor, the other boy’s long gone.

He looks at the chocolates in his hand- it’s a cartoon brand, brightly colored, and looks moderately expensive for Ikuo. The kids at Mahoroba got a small allowance for doing chores, and it must’ve taken Ikuo a month of doing dishes and folding laundry to get enough for this particular indulgence.

Something in Tatsuya’s stomach warms at the thought, and the considers not throwing away the thing after all.

He still likes Yuiko _best_ , of course, but maybe Ikuo can make the list of people Tatsuya can put up with. Barely.

* * *

02.

It had never been his intention to have Ikuo as his partner.

He might’ve been useful, true, as someone who had actually been there at the scene of the crime, who saw the murderers; but he didn’t have any memories of the event, had been too shell-shocked to even say goodbye to Tatsuya when he’d been taken away. He was a crybaby, a weakling, a bad actor- everything Tatsuya needed to cut away from himself, in order to take down Yuiko’s killer.

Their promise on the beach doesn’t have to mean anything. It _shouldn’t_ have meant anything.

(He’ll never admit it to himself, but the sight of Ikuo’s bloodstained figure kneeling beside Yuiko’s prone body is the true reason behind his hesitance. Because someone as bright and clean as Ikuo should never look like that, and Tatsuya never wants to see him like that again-)

But then he finds Ikuo standing in the midst of a fallen group, blood that is not his flecked on his uniform and a strange, blank look on his face.

_“Give back Yuiko-sensei’s pendent.”_

(-but, as always, he’s too late)

It’s fine. If Ikuo’s already broken, then Tatsuya will just have to put back the jagged pieces himself. And if killing Yuiko’s murderer is the way to do that…

Well, it’s not as if it wasn’t already on his bucket list already, anyways.

_“The twin dragons, Ouroboros. That’s what we are. We’ll get revenge together.”_

* * *

03.

It comes as a surprise that Ikuo’s actually suited to police work.

Tatsuya didn’t think that anything about Ikuo could surprise him anymore; but apparently, Ikuo lives to confuse him. The younger boy takes to policing like he was born for it, his animal-like intuition and cheerful charm combining to create something that _fits_ with being a detective.

Ikuo ducks any praise, though, insisting with flushed cheeks and a sheepish grin that it was “ _because I had a lot of help…”_ ; pushing all of the glory onto Tatsuya, even if it’s not in so many words.

_“Wow, Tacchan, you're amazing!”_

Just like he always did.

Tatsuya knows better, though. He’s always known that Ikuo was smarter than people gave him credit for. Even taking into account all the evidence Tatsuya’s given him, most of the actual legwork and deduction had already been done by Ikuo. All Tatsuya ever does is investigate the suspicions _Ikuo_ has given him.

Ikuo, though, never seems to get this, seeing himself as a hanger-on to Tatsuya’s brilliance; the Robin to his Batman, the Watson to his Holmes, the comic relief standing next to the protagonist.

And Tatsuya never tells him the truth, because some part of him doesn’t want to know what’ll happen when Ikuo realises that he doesn’t _need_ Tatsuya.

What’ll happen when he realises that he can just walk away.

Because Tatsuya hasn’t become a high-level Yakuza so quickly by being slow on the uptake. He knows exactly how good Ikuo is, and that the other boy could easily slide back onto the straight and narrow anytime he wanted to. He’s not like Tatsuya, whose hands are already too blood-stained to ever be washed clean.

_Here's the smell of the blood still. All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand._

The younger boy doesn’t have as many violent outbursts, the blankness in his eyes passing over him less and less frequently. He would be fine doing police work, helping people as he’d never been helped.

Tatsuya did not want him to be fine.

He was honest enough with himself at this point to admit that Ikuo had become an essential part of his life- that the younger boy had always been necessary, and Tatsuya could not recall a time when Ikuo had not been with him. Ikuo was a weakness that Tatsuya should not have, but it was far too late for him to let go. Because Ikuo always feels like the first breath after drowning; the waves crashing over Tatsuya’s throat, the choking relief of coming up for air.

This could only end in tragedy.

“Hey, Tacchan, I got a new partner today!”

Tatsuya closes his eyes, and takes another breath.

* * *

04.

Ninomiya Fuuka is beautiful, all dark hair and sultry eyes and his for the taking.

Tatsuya doesn’t think he’s ever been so disappointed.

“Now I’m beautiful, right?” she murmurs, sliding her arms around him, and all he can remember is a young, earnest hostess smiling at him.

There is nothing left of Imafuku Kazumi in her, now.

He doesn’t look at her- doesn’t _need_ to, and his disinterest is honest. Imafuku Kazumi had been honest and clumsy, bearing the weight of her past with a quiet strength and hard-earned optimism. He’d felt drawn to something in her, the way he hadn’t been with the other hostesses vying for his attention.

_“I’m already used to bashful people like you.”_

In the back of his mind, he’d registered the similarities- a pure, honest soul forced into darkness; someone innately kind and hard-working, who looked at him with honest concern. He hadn’t wanted to admit it, though, because it’d felt too much like letting go of Yuiko.

But now, looking at this woman who’d thrown everything away for him, he can suddenly think of nothing but Ikuo, of Ikuo’s face instead of Kazumi’s and Ikuo being dragged into darkness like Kazumi had been, of Ikuo disappearing into a darker version of himself. Of _Tatsuya_ doing it to him.

He felt sick, looking at her, because he realised that the one person that would inevitably be covered in the darkness that Tatsuya willingly stepped in was also the only person that had grown to be someone he couldn’t stand to see destroyed.

 _Fuck_ , he thought, as Fuuka’s face twisted in rage, _I’m in love with Ikuo._

* * *

05.

Hibino Mizuki is the first person Tatsuya has ever feared.

Ikuo’s clearly enamored with her, going on about her bravery, her intelligence, her ethics. Tatsuya doesn’t say anything, and only recognises afterwards that the sour taste on his tongue is fear, rather than anger.

This woman could take Ikuo away.

He recognises the resemblance immediately, of course- Hibino has the same strict moral code, the same staunch belief in justice that Yuiko did. Hell, they even _looked_ alike. It’s almost poetic, Ikuo falling for someone who mirrors the past and yet pulls him into the future; a person who can stand apart from the spectre of Yuiko that has hung over Ikuo for so much of their lives.

(Tatsuya doesn’t think about how alike Ikuo and Yuiko are, now, moreso than Hibino and Yuiko. He doesn’t think about how the only two people he holds precious are reflections of one another, both bright and untarnished and far too _clean_ for him to touch.)

He reminds Ikuo that she’s just a pawn, another stepping stone to get their revenge, and tries not to hate his own cowardice.

It seems that, even now, he still hasn’t learned how to let go.

* * *

06.

When Tatsuya decided to avenge Yuiko, he’d never imagined how deeply the web of deceit would run.

The Kintokei. Public Safety. Hibino the elder. Hijiki. The Commissioner. Yuiko in the photograph, clad in police-regulated blue.

Ikuo’s memories.

Tatsuya hates it, because he’s wavering. He finds himself dwelling on his memories of Mahoroba, combing through them to find inconsistencies, hints, _anything_ that would begin to explain this web that he and Ikuo have begun to unravel. Every time he does it, he feels like he’s tainting Yuiko’s memory, like his doubt is casting a shadow over the happiest - the _only_ happy - moments he’s ever had in his life.

But he trusts Ikuo without hesitation, and Ikuo had said that Yuiko had a gun.

_Why would she have a gun? How was she part of Public Safety? Why did she leave? Did she know she was in danger? Did she know the men who killed her?_

Every question feels like a betrayal to the first person he’d ever loved, and he can see how much it hurts Ikuo to question Yuiko, too. She had been the foundation for their world for so long, the core of truth around which they wove their deceits. Neither of them wanted to think about the possibility that even she had been a lie, that their memories of loving her were anything less than pure.

Of course, it was too late for them to back out and live in blissful ignorance now, considering all that  they’ve given up to find the truth. Tatsuya tries to conceal his own doubts, because it’s pointless, and because it’ll distress Ikuo- and it’s a punch to the gut for Tatsuya to realise that he has stripped away any chance of Ikuo living a normal life away from their increasingly dark path, that he has dragged Ikuo along on a road that they likely will not survive.

He almost wishes that Hibino will stop them, will capture him and save Ikuo and bring the detective back into the light. Almost, because he’s a selfish bastard, and he clings desperately to Ikuo even when he knows he should be letting go. Ikuo has given enough for Tatsuya to go on, he doesn’t need to be involved anymore. Tatsuya should just cut his losses, cut Ikuo loose like ripping off a bandaid, the pain sharp but surely, _surely_ temporary.

He tells himself this as he leaves Ikuo bleeding out in the amusement park tunnel, knowing that Hibino would find him, would fix him. He knows that this is the best thing he could do for Ikuo; Hibino would drag the truth out of him, drag him into the light in a way that would end with him happy and whole and _alive_ \- gloriously, deservedly alive.

He ignores how leaving Ikuo behind, bleeding and hurt, feels like opening a wound in his own body.

* * *

07.

Tatsuya knows that he is dying.

Ikuo’s saying something to him- a babbling brook of comforting words that he doesn't have the strength to process. He wishes, he wishes, he wishes that Ikuo weren’t here right now, steeped in the blood that they can never clean away. He wishes that he weren't so grateful.

Is this what Yuiko-sensei wanted, when she told them to take care of each other? Somehow, Tatsuya can't imagine that it is.

He stopped Ikuo from killing Kitagawa, from killing his son. That’s something. That’s all Tatsuya wanted, more than their ultimately meaningless revenge, more than his own life- he wanted Ikuo to be able to live on without this weight on his shoulders, to be able to build his life on something other than the warped foundations that he and Tatsuya relied on for so long.

Hibino and Fukamachi are outside, and they’re staring at him, at Ikuo. Hibino’s not crying. Tatsuya wants to ask her to look after Ikuo, please, god, help him, don't let him go. He knows that he can never have Ikuo, but he’s selfish, he wants Ikuo to be with someone who will still tether him to the past, someone who is bound to Tatsuya with a promise. Ikuo looks at her, and Tatsuya doesn't need to look to know the love that is in his gaze. This love, as much as it hurts, is also the last thread of hope that Tatsuya is afforded, the thought that Ikuo can still get away with all of this. It won't be easy, but he’ll have Hibino-san beside him, his fellow police officers. Tatsuya cannot imagine them not protecting this boy, not after knowing him in all his sun-bright sweetness. Ikuo has a chance, because Ikuo will live.

Tatsuya believes in that, because he can't bring himself to imagine another outcome.

“I’m sorry, Hibino-san. I’m glad to have met you.”

Tatsuya lets them have their moment. Fukamachi is staring at him, loyal to the end, and Tatsuya thanks him, because there’s nothing else to say. He doesn't regret any of it - except, perhaps, all of it - but he wishes that Fukamachi had not grown so attached, that he could let go of this part of his life, at least, without guilt.

Ikuo takes him to the car, and he’s crying, the idiot. They watch Yuiko-sensei’s video, and her words are both too loud and too quiet to Tatsuya’s fading senses. Ikuo’s talking to him, and Tatsuya is glad that he’s too weak to speak, because he wants nothing more than to confess everything to him. To beg him to _live, please, be happy, because I love you_.

For a moment, he wonders how life would be if Mahoroba was just a regular orphanage, if Yuiko-sensei was just a regular, kind caretaker. If maybe he and Ikuo would have grown up together without the warped chains that tied them together. It’s a comforting fantasy, and he shuts his eyes to the image of Ikuo and Yuiko, the two most important people in the world, smiling without darkness.

* * *

_00._

_“Welcome home, Ikuo,” Yuiko says, voice warm. Tatsuya looks at her, then at Ikuo. “Welcome home, Tatsuya.”_

_“We’re home,” Ikuo says, and Tatsuya cannot help the words that fall then._

_“You_ idiot _,” he says, fierce. “You should've lived- what about Hibino-san?”_

_Ikuo looks at him evenly. “It’s you and me, Tacchan. Until the end. The two dragons.”_

_Tatsuya feels a warmth, and looks down to find Ikuo holding his hand, fingers curling in the spaces between his own. He stares._

_“Alright, boys,” Yuiko’s tone turns stern. “You know that this wasn't what I wanted, right?” she softens slightly at  their wide eyes. “Though I suppose you did support each other, even if you did it in the most stupid of ways.”_

_“Hey!” Tatsuya protests, feeling nine again, and feels Ikuo’s fingers tighten on his as he laughs, body swaying closer to Tatsuya. He wonders if this is a deathbed hallucination, the sum of all his dreams coming true in his last moments. Some part of him wants it to be, if only because it’ll mean that Ikuo’s still alive, still breathing, still helping people._

_But, selfishly, he hopes  that it is really Ikuo beside him, Yuiko in front of him, their laughters filling the air like dust motes, like home._

_Yuiko motions them to the dining table, where two plates of omurice are plated, and Ikuo grins in delight, tugging Tatsuya towards their seats. Tatsuya lets him._

_If this is a dream, it is a kind one._

**Author's Note:**

> please god let this fandom have more fics


End file.
